This Used To Be My Playground
by BlackOpal
Summary: Satine goes back to the run-down Moulin Rouge. There she sings her pain away with the homeless and rats watching.


Disclaimer: Not mine... Baz's. The song is Madonna's. Bleh, bleh, bleh.

A/N: This is for my beloved Madi-dee, who means the world to me. *nods* She's fifteen! *sobs* She growing up so quickly! 

Anyways, I adore her so much, and she knows it. This is for her on her birthday.

With lots of love,

Lindsa

"Live and learn," Satine sang. Her voice was barely a whisper, shaky and sad. "Well the years flew, and we never knew." The Moulin Rouge's discombobulated gates were hanging loosely by rusted hinges that threatened to let go at the slightest touch. The beauty the distant club once had was now faded and a distant memory. She remembered the days when she thought the Moulin Rouge would be... the Moulin Rouge forever. "We were foolish then, we would never tire." 

The pavement inside was in no better condition then the outside. Moss, grass and weeds were growing through the split concrete. How awful it looked now, where was Satine's Moulin Rouge?

"And that little fire is still alive in me. It will never go away." She sang to the old building. It creaked, inviting her in, begging her to bring back all the old memories of her past.

She didn't want to.

The calling was strange though, and the calls from the nightclub won in the end.

"Can't say goodbye to yesterday..."

The stairs cracked beneath her weight. She skipped the last one, it had broke before she stepped on it.

This couldn't be the Mouiln Rouge. The luxurious dance floor was covered with debris from the caving in roof. Rats ran back and forth. This was their home now. A couple of homeless people were huddled around a fire made from burning dresses.

Satine gasped horrified. They were from all the girls: Nini, Babydoll... everyone. Maybe even her.

She stepped around a decaying carcass of a bird. It had been picked clean, though it was impossible to tell by who- the homeless or the rats.

"This used to be my playground." Her voice was weak and cracking. Every tear was on the verge of spilling. "This used to be my childhood dream. This used to be the place I ran to, whenever I was in need of a friend." She looked up. There was her swing. It was a crow's home now, its babies were crying loudly for food. "Why did it have to end?" She lost her battle, tears were out, and she was sobbing. This was her playground. Her Moulin Rouge. Her childhood dream. "And why do they always say, don't look back? Keep your head held high. Don't ask them why."

She did a slow, seductive pirouette, pretending she was with the other girls and they were performing just like any other night. "Because life is short and before you know it, you're feeling old." The Moulin Rouge was dead. It was as if she died with it. "And your heart is breaking. Don't hold on to the past." In the midst of her tears, she giggled. She was holding on to her past, clutching it tightly and refusing to let go of her beloved Moulin Rouge. "Well that's to much to ask." Her tearstained eyes fluttered to the booth where she first saw him.

Where was he now? Was he lying in someone else's arms as the little ones jumped on his bed, pleading in the annoying way children plead for their parents to wake up? Where ever he was, Christian was happy. Satine was sure of that.

"No regrets, but I wish that you were here with me. Well there's hope yet." She wrapped her goose bumped arms around herself, imagining Christian instead. "I can see your face in our secret place. You're not just a memory. 'Say goodbye to yesterday,' Those are words I'll never say... This used to be my playground. This used to be our pride and joy, this used to be the place we ran to, that no one in the world could dare destroy." Oh how she missed him. She still loved him. She still lived and breathed for him and him only. "This used to be our playground. This used to be our childhood dream. This used to be the place we ran too. I wish you were standing here with me." She collapsed, unable to bear the pain of standing any longer.

Christian was her everything. She needed him. "This used to be our playground, this used to be our great escape. This used to be the place we ran too." She recalled the kisses in the balcony and sang, "This used to be our secret hiding place."

The pain was too great. She was in agony. But the homeless were watching her, the rats too, willing her to continue with the recalling her past. Curse them! What did they know about her memories? But she needed it as much as they did, she had to say goodbye to the Moulin Rouge. She had to say goodbye to Christian. "This used to be our playground... this used to be our childhood dream. This used to be the place we ran to... the best things in life are always free." She sighed.

"Wishing you were here with me..."


End file.
